


Baby shoes for sale; Never worn

by Starkspectacular



Category: No Fandom
Genre: F/M, Father Figures, For Sale; baby shoes, Gen, Guilt, Pain, never worn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 11:01:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starkspectacular/pseuds/Starkspectacular
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story based upon the prompt I got; <br/>For Sale; Baby shoes, Never worn</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby shoes for sale; Never worn

They said that statistically speaking, Cot death wouldn’t occur at all in the last few months of infant development. They said that the unexplained infant death rate for boys was 0.40 per 1000 live births, which accounted for 59% of unexplained infant deaths.

So we had nothing to fear, right? There wasn’t anything wrong with him, no illness or upset tummies or anything wrong at all, so why did it happen?

Well the doctors said nothing had been wrong with him, so there was nothing we could do.

But that makes me all the more guilty though, doesn’t it? ‘Cause I was on duty that night…

Yeah, it was my turn to feed you, Al, it was my turn to bring you into our room and cuddle you to sleep again. It was my turn to get you all nice and warm and comfortable in your crib but I overslept. I’ll tell everyone it was my fault, that I over slept and your mum was too tired as well. We were so tired, Al… Can you forgive me for sleeping through your cries?

I remember it was a cold morning when I woke up, and your mum had been sleeping soundly beside me. I didn’t want to wake her up. So I crept silently out of our room to see if you were awake and all I saw was my little boy, pale and still.

I screamed for you, Al. I screamed and your mummy came running in and we called the ambulance while I tried to bring you back.

I remember seeing Bell at the door, peeping around to see what was wrong with her little brother and why her daddy was screaming at mummy to get the paramedics here.

She’ll never know you, Al. She’ll never get to grow up with you and argue with you and finally protect you. She’ll never stop being a big sister, though. Never.

And your mummy, she’ll never get to hold you or cradle your warm body to hers when you’re hungry. She’ll never get to wake up with you bouncing on our bodies to try and rouse us to open birthday presents.

And me, I’ll never get to take my only son to his first football match, or dance recital, or whatever you’d have wanted to do. I’ll never get to see you stand at the alter with your partner and I’ll never get to stand there with you, hold onto your arm and tell you ‘Everything’s alright, I’m here for you.’

I’m not ashamed to say that I cried, Alex. Not at all.

You were so small and so beautiful and so perfect. It was like when your mother gave birth to Arabella and she was so small too, and I cried at her perfection just like I cried at yours.

But by some cruel twist of fate, my beautiful little man got taken away from me.

I remember telling Bell that you were gone now and not coming back. The look in her eyes… I’ll never forget her sadness. She asked me if the angels had taken you and I said yes, I told her that baby Alex was living with the angels because he wasn’t ready to be a baby yet, not yet. And it calmed her, that did. She thinks that we’re all angels reincarnated into humans now, and I rather like that idea.

I see now that the day before when I bought a pair of babies shoes out of compulsiveness that I should probably have waited. You were too young to wear them, but the little teddy bears on the side made me think of you and your tufty hair. I’ll have to sell them now, brand new and never worn.

Al, I love you. Mummy loves you, Bella loves you. Everyone loved you, you were such an easy little baby! So why’s it that my little boy has to leave and not me?

Your face plays in my mind and I can’t help but wonder what you’d look like if you had the chance to live, to grow up and become a gentleman. I wonder if you’d have had my nose or your mother’s eyes. I wonder if you’d have liked chillies like me or cherries like Bella. I wonder how your hair would have been, long or short, black or brown, curly or straight? And I’ll never know. Never.

I can hear you at night, still. Little mewls and cries for daddy to come and pick you up. For mummy to feed you or someone to embrace you. I see now that it was your last sounds, because I did wake just long enough to hear and fall back to sleep.

I’m so sorry, Al. This was my fault and the guilt cuts me deep. If only I’d have woken up and listen just long enough and actually gotten out of bed… If only I’d have gotten to you quicker, or found you earlier…

But your mummy said ‘what if’s’ won’t bring you back. And so your mummy is trying to cope just as much as I am. But how can I cope when I’ll never get to have ‘the talk’ with you, or teach you to ride a bike or take you for your first driving lesson?

How can I live with all those missed opportunities…

You’d never so much as coughed wrong, never even been hurt. You were birthed so easily and so quickly and yet still you left us? Why’s that always the case, why does it have to be you and not me?

I’d switch places with you, Al. I would in a heartbeat. I’d watch over you from start to finish and take you into life once more.

I carried you into the church that day, after we’d dressed you in that little white baby grow that made you look as if you were sleeping. There was a white cotton blanket that Bella ‘helped’ your mummy make wound around you, and a little cap on your head for warmth. I’d written you a letter with an ink pen, but by the time I’d finished the ink was running and the paper wet. I gave it to you anyway, along with a book I’d planned to read to you when you were old enough. I’d given you all that I wanted to and your mummy too. I watched you lowered into the ground and then covered with earth, slowly planting little spring flowers around the edges as we buried you.

I hope you come back soon, Al. I hope the angels are looking after my little boy, preparing him to be someone else’s little boy eventually.

Your mummy loves you and Bella loves you.

But Daddy misses you most.

Please forgive me.


End file.
